


But I am home wherever you are near

by a_teayes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, omigiri, soft omigiri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_teayes/pseuds/a_teayes
Summary: But I am home wherever you are nearThere's no life in anythingWhen you're not here- Love in the Time of Socialismorsoft, domestic omigiri
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: 🐶🍙 omigiri fanfic collection





	But I am home wherever you are near

**Author's Note:**

> this one is (semi) based on some lyrics from the song "Love in the Time of Socialism" by Yellow House, which would be a great companion tune while you read, if you'd like to take a listen :) have a domestic omigiri drabble!

But I am home wherever you are near

There's no life in anything

When you're not here

_Love in the Time of Socialism_

  
  


Sakusa can only repress his affection so much before it bubbles over, spills out, and cracks him open. The pain in his chest, the pounding of his calm heart, threatening to escape the confines of his ribs- it’s all foreign, and it’s unsightly.

Vulnerability is not a strength. That’s what he believes, so naturally, when he’s thrown into its depths, he is no longer strong.

Somehow, though, he can’t quite seem to mind the weakness of vulnerability when it’s in the company of Osamu.

  
  
  


_Kiyoomi_ , he calls. _Come to bed, won’t ‘ya_. It’s difficult to stay unaffected when in the presence of a resting Osamu, with his dark hair, matted from his cap, and his half-smirk half-grin, somehow untouched by the shackles of sleep. It’s calming, peaceful, and it turns Kiyoomi’s stomach until he feels butterflies fluttering in his chest.

Before Osamu, he would’ve found the feeling _sickening_. A lifetime ago, it feels like.

In the beginning, each little brush of fingertips, each bump of noses and forearms was scalding, burning _hot_ , and _disgusting_ . Sakusa had long before resigned himself to a loveless life, because what was love without touch? He’d say it was a decision for himself- self-preservation, maybe- but he was really just saving any poor man from subjecting themself to a relationship with a... _freak_. 

(it took a long time for Sakusa to stop thinking of himself as one...he’s still working on it)

It wasn’t until Osamu came along that he realized how _nice_ it felt to be loved, and that he regretted ever believing he’d never have love at all.

  
  
  


Kiyoomi measures time using Osamu as a reference point. There’s _Before Osamu_ \- when he wasn’t speaking with his parents, was wallowing in his self-pity, when he was simply going through the motions and sought no end to his despair.

Then, of course, there’s _After Osamu_ , for the man who convinced him to let him meet the parents he still wasn’t in contact with, who simultaneously wooed and terrified them with his hellish humor and his honey-covered compliments, all smiles and sincerity and a thick, heavy Hyogo accent. Osamu’s laugh is probably the most wonderful sound anyone has ever heard, and when Kiyoomi can draw it out, even for a moment, he thinks it’s more satisfying than the sound of a flawless spike against a hard court if that’s possible (it is, he knows). 

Still gazing down at his best friend (and boyfriend, and everything in between), Kiyoomi places a quick, chaste kiss to Osamu’s left eyelid, half-expecting it to open and wink after he does so. When it doesn’t, he shakes his head, always surprised at the influence this man has on him, over him, but welcoming the growth nonetheless. 

He slowly curls himself around the sleeping figure, throwing an arm over his waist and a leg between two others. If anything has ever felt like home to him before, it’s this, Kiyoomi thinks.

Perhaps vulnerability is simply a different type of strength.

  
  



End file.
